This Feels Like
by PastelLace
Summary: It doesn't matter the age or the year... there was always something between the two of them. There was always something he felt about her. Something she felt about him. Something. A collection of moments throughout the years. A RaiKim one-shot.


**Title** : This Feels Like…

 **Summary** : It doesn't matter the age or the year... there was always something between the two of them. There was always something he felt about her. Something she felt about him. Something.

A collection of moments throughout the years. RaiKim.

* * *

 ** _This feels like anger._**

He was fourteen, and hotheaded, and quite as stubborn as a mule. She was as stubborn and hotheaded as he was, and there were certain days she was worse. Both two headstrong people, neither one refused to admit their faults or wrongs.

They brought out the worst in each other, always butting heads as how headstrong people would normally do. It doesn't matter the circumstance, the situation, or the problem. One of them was always wrong, and neither one of them wanted that title.

It's safe to say that he pissed her off as much as she pissed him off. They rarely got along, and when they did—it was for the sake of mankind, or the sake of goodness, or for something that was the opposite of evil or bad.

They got along only when they had to, not because they wanted to.

And whenever somebody tried to approach the topic of their aggressive relationship, fingers would be pointed.

"She's the one with the temper," he'd always drawl, with laziness heavy on his tone. "Come on now, guys. You guys know me. I'm as laid back as can be."

"He purposely pisses me off," she'd snap, throwing her hands in the air. "It's like a game to him, to always try to find out what pisses me off and then uses it against me. Just this morning he thought it'd be hilarious to steal my PDA because he thought I purposely left the ring tone volume all the way up to annoy him. Earth to Pedrosa! I don't give a shit about you enough to put that much effort into annoying you!"

"Earth to Tohomiko," Raimundo would mock, just like any of their other arguments. "When I told you to turn your stupid PDA off the first twenty times, you didn't listen to me, chica. Of _course_ you were trying to annoy me."

And, like always, their little petty feud would end up blowing up big time. With threats being said, insults being flung, and warnings of usages of Shen Gong Wu's being used—hostility was always in the air, thick and heavy and burning brighter with each and every word being thrown.

The others have learned that it was best to leave these two be.

-x-

 ** _This feels like acceptance._**

He was fifteen, and he was on the brink of death. She was the one who saved him, screaming his name in a loud, agonizing and panicked scream as she used the Star Hanabi to fire blast the monster that would have snapped his neck instantly, had it not been distracted by her scream.

He had been tossed to the ground like a rag doll, body aching and sore all over. He was certain he couldn't move without feeling overwhelming pain on every inch of his body.

She skid to the ground, her knees sinking into the mud as she placed her hand on his neck.

"I'm alive," he gritted, blinking rapidly as he stared up into her eyes. He was almost certain, just almost, that the glimmer in her eyes could have been tears. Had it been any other day, he would have teased her for it. Today, however, he was too shellshocked and filled with a sense of disassociation that he didn't know how to feel.

A look of relief washed over her face. "I thought—" She shook her head quickly and gently pried her hand away from his neck. "You were—"

"Almost," he corrected quickly, but then he shut his eyes and gritted out, "I don't want to think about it."

"You could have died," she pointed out.

"I didn't."

"You could have."

"But I didn't," he repeated. "Because of you."

She rolled her eyes. "If the roles were reversed, you would have done the same for me." She got up to her feet quickly, and extended her hand. "We need to get out of here. Omi and Clay needs our help."

Any other day, he would have sneered at her with disgust and mock her for "wanting to hold his hands." Whatever he was feeling, it wasn't annoyance he usually felt for her. It was, he realized, gratitude.

And for the first time in his life, he found himself reevaluating his relationship with her.

-x-

 ** _This feels like friendship._**

He was sixteen, and he would do anything for her. There were no doubts whatsoever of the extend he would go to when it came to her.

"Remind me why we're doing this again?" he asked, an eyebrow quirked up high as he looked over at her.

"Well," she said, "the back of the box says that it'll rejuvenate our skin and make it look five years younger."

He snorted. "Do we really want to look eleven?"

" _It_ ," she emphasized. " _It._ As in our skin. Just think about how amazing and flawless we'd look with nice skin?"

"You already do have nice skin."

"Because I do this all the time," she said, gesturing to all the facial beauty masks on the floor around them.

"Cucumbers," he said slowly, picking up a slice, "are for eating."

"They're great for the eyes!" she protested.

"And for the stomach, when it's empty."

She rolled her eyes, yet an amused smile appeared on her face. "Shut up, Rai. You're so going to be thankful when this is over."

"At least you're not forcing me to watch a Nicolas Sparks marathon."

She made a face. "Uh, no. If we're doing movie marathons, we're going to do it the right way. Lots of Japanese horror movies, along with lots of Superhero flicks."

He rolled his eyes. "Are you trying to subliminally advertise to me all the things related to your dad's toy company?"

A smirk appeared on her face. "Maybe."

"No dice, chica. We're not watching Japanese horror movies."

"Because you're scared of them," she teased. "It's okay, Rai. 'Fess up. I won't make fun of you."

"Says the girl who is, as of right now, making fun of me," Raimundo stated.

She grinned. "Admit it, Rai. You like it when I make fun of you."

"Ah, yes, because there's nothing more amazing than when a girl destroys your ego."

"You do need a reality check," she murmured. "Your ego has gotten quite inflated."

"Can you help it? I'm _amazing_."

"Amazingly stupid," she corrected.

He snorted. "Face it, chica. I'm amazing and you know it."

"I'd rather eat a bowl of wasabi sauce—or teach Omi how to use all the functions of an iPhone—than admit it." She smiled at him anyway.

"Uh huh. Why am I friends with you again?" he pondered out loud.

"Duh. We're friends because I'm amazing."

"Maybe your ego's the one that needs to be checked," he teased.

"Can't help it," she mocked. "I'm amazing and you know it."

And he did know it. It was why he was so glad she was one of his friends. If anything, his best friend.

 _-x-_

 ** _This feels like jealousy._**

He was seventeen, and scared of how irrational he felt. He was not a moody person. He refused to be broody and moody, when he could be out in the open and honest about anything. In order to be fun and laid back, he was an open person in general.

He should have realized something was wrong the moment he started feeling it. _Hesitancy._

He was her best friend, and best friends never keep secrets from each other. But the things he wanted to say—the things he wanted to tell her—were things best friends don't say to each other.

It started when she stated that she'd much rather go out on a date with some "cute guy" she met on New Years than spending time at the temple with the rest of them.

He never understood the hesitancy he felt around her, as if he was tiptoeing around her to avoid a nonexistent, unspoken problem that was in the air between the two of them.

She must have noticed it, because one day, she pulled him aside and looked up into his green eyes. "What's wrong, Rai?"

As if he knew.

And, like any hopeless boy in the world, he shrugged.

She sighed. "You've been acting weird since we've gotten back from break."

That he knew.

"Did something happen at home?" Her eyes widened. "To your parents, your siblings, your—"

He shushed her. "Nothing happened, chica. I'm just… going through something weird."

Her eyes widened for a second, before narrowing until she was squinting at him. "Is this your way of telling me that you've finally hit puberty?"

He rolled his eyes, yet couldn't help but smile. "Har, har."

"Because that's quite concerning, Rai. I know late bloomers are a thing, but seventeen? Yikes."

He gently pushed her shoulder. "Knock it off, chica."

She beamed that radiant smile of hers for just another few seconds before it disappeared, replaced with a concerned look. "You'd tell me if something was wrong, right?"

He nodded.

"Okay, good." She readjusted the strap to her purse, hoisting it over her shoulder. "I'd ambush you with more Q's and all, but I got a movie to catch."

"With him?" He didn't mean to blurt it out, especially since it came out in such an antagonizing manner.

She raised her eyebrows. "Uh, who else? Clay? Omi? You know that Omi's banned from the theaters ever since he got kicked out for talking loudly the entire time, pointing out all the flaws in that Ninja movie. And Clay won't watch anything that's not Western movies." She made a face. "Sometimes, this girl wants to watch a 'normal' movie. You feel?"

"I feel," he said.

She nodded and grinned at him. "Great. I would have totally invited you to come, but the tickets are all sold out. Maybe next time?"

"Maybe next time," he echoed.

"Okay. I'll see you laters, Rai." She squeezed his hand. "Bye!"

As he watched her walk away, he felt something else besides hesitancy. And for the first time in his life, he felt even more confused than usual.

-x-

 ** _This feels like a risk._**

He was eighteen, and it was always inevitable.

A kiss.

A drunken kiss that should have never happened, except it did. Between the two of them. With a bottle of vodka between the two of them, long abandoned since his lips latched onto hers and his arms pulled her into his chest.

It was inevitable.

From the longing ways he'd look at her when he thought she wasn't looking. To the way she was always the first thing that popped up inside his mind.

It was inevitable; it was bound to happen.

It was just a kiss.

And it was obvious that nothing would ever be the same again.

-x-

 ** _This feels like slow-burn_.**

She had been fifteen when she realized she was crushing on him, bad. It was the way he managed to be both flirty and arrogant, both at the same time, that managed to somehow attract her. It was wrong, and she knew it. And so she fought her attraction, knowing fully well that it was just a silly attraction that only happened because they were around each other far too often for nothing to happen.

It was when he was almost killed when she realized how deep her feelings were for him. And with that knowledge, she buried it deep knowing fully well that he'd never reciprocate whatever it was she felt for him.

It was just a crush.

She had been sixteen when their relationship improved. No longer baring teeth and flashing claws, the two of them rarely butted heads. They got along great, platonically and unromantically.

He was an amazing friend, one she was always grateful to have. He always let her get away with so much nonsense that she was always surprised how much she could get away with. From watching bad chick flicks, to pedicures and manicures—he seemed to be down to do anything. And the feelings for him, the feelings she had for him, was something more than just a crush. It was a type of love. It was a type of platonic love.

She had been seventeen when she realized that nothing would ever happen, and that it was time to get over her crush. What they had was something not worth being thrown away for the sake of hormones and attraction. He cared about her. She cared about him. That was all that mattered.

But then she noticed the gradual pull, aware of the fact that he was slipping away from her the more she tried to move on from that crush she continued to bury deep inside her every day. Something was wrong, and she didn't like it.

It was a devastating realization when she realized how hard it was going to be, that she wouldn't be able to move on without somehow damaging their friendship. The distancing herself was straining their relationship, but it was the only thing she could do without baring her heart and risking the heartache and pain that would surely follow.

And so, she tiptoed around her problems and hoped for the best. Because, after all, hope was all she could do when it came to him.

She was eighteen, and she would have kissed him had he not kissed her first. The vodka was a means to calm the nerves, and she needed her nerves calm enough so she could bare her feelings and soul to him. To risk everything in three little words.

But he kissed her before she could say them, and the words were the last thing on her mind as she returned his kiss with everything she could do.

And had he not whisper those three little words against her lips before pressing his forehead against hers, she would have said them first.

-x-

 ** _This feels like something._**

There were the good days, filled with kisses and whispers of devotion under the stars or right before a dangerous mission where their lives could be at risk. There were the bad days, filled with anger and yelling over peeves and annoyance, only for the two of them to make up and admit their wrongs. There were the days that were an average mix of both, the days that nothing really happened, and so forth.

They never needed the three little words to confirm what they felt, wether it was the good days, the bad days, or days that were a mix of both.

It was obvious.

 _This feels like love._

 _And this feels… right._

* * *

 **A/N** : I hope you guys enjoyed it. I'm sorry if there's any grammatical or spelling errors. This was written on a whim and wasn't beta'd. I wrote this for all the people who enjoyed _Bittersweet Love_ and _the Boy Across the Hallway._ Thank you for still wanting me to update both of them, especially since it's been two-three years since I've last updated them.

I hope you guys enjoyed this.

(The way I formatted this reminds me of _Flowers,_ which is still my favorite from all the things I've written). Thanks for all the reviews and support!

xx


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